


Waves

by hutchynstarsk



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Gen, aftermath of a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 16:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchynstarsk/pseuds/hutchynstarsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kono is hurting, both inwardly and outwardly.  Chin is there for her, the only person who always has been...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is my take on Kono, quite possibly not canon in some ways (or in ways that will yet appear). Please do feel free to gently point out any canon errors you see so I can learn from it. :) This is my first Kono fic and I’m a little nervous because she’s my favorite character! (I love the relationship between Chin and Kono. Wish I had a cousin half as wonderful!)
> 
> Note 2: I wrote this before watching the Season Two finale. I’m still posting it even though it doesn’t seem to completely agree with some references to Adam in that episode. (I think the aftermath of S2 Ep22 for Kono was a bit dismissed in the finale.)

_**Takes place after Season 2, Episode 22. Spoilers.** _

_**Genre: Friendship; grief; aftermath of a relationship** _

_**Characters: Kono, Chin** _

__

_****_

 

**  
Waves**

**by Allie**

 

Kono crouched on her board, listening to the sound of the waves surrounding her, the overwhelming and wonderful sound of the water that blended till it was like no sound, like every sound.

She remembered crowds, proud smiling family, the intoxicating, perfect, wonderful feeling of being able to do this, to know she could. To feel perfect confidence in her body and yet that tingle of fear anew each time, challenging her to give it her all, to throw her heart onto the waves, to surf with every ounce of her being. 

Being absolutely capable and completely in control of herself, throwing herself against nature and then coming back to do it again had been wonderful, rejoicing in the waves, the freedom, the competition. What people didn’t realize about surfing competitively was that every time, you were most of all surfing against yourself. The sea wasn’t your opponent (you worked with it), and your opponents weren’t even your opponents; it was your own self: courage, resolve, skill, and fitness put to the test every time.

What no one had certainly ever thought to ask was how it felt to lose every time, now. Because how else could it be, when you were once on your way to championship, and now… now you could do a little surfing, for fun, if you were careful and didn’t let yourself get hurt. Didn’t push too hard, because you’d been injured beyond all that now, needed to be as safe as a tourist, play carefully and never, never fling your whole being joyfully at the two-thirds of the world that was ocean.

Sea creature she’d been, more in the water than out some days; and now she was a tourist and every time, every time, she lost. She’d learned to be content to taste the water on her skin. Not surfing the way she used to didn’t have to hurt, if you didn’t let it; at least not as much. If she reminded herself how far she’d come, that she was lucky to be able to surf at all, that this was a victory, even if her tackling of a wave could never compare to how well she’d have done in the old days. Those old, cocky days when she was young and thought herself unbeatable, knew in every bone that she could do just a bit better next time.

Sometimes she looked at old, broken-down cops and wondered if it would be like that for her someday. If working with 5-0 was her glory days, and someday she’d look back and wonder where that confident, cocky youth had gone, the same as with surfing.

Today it felt like it already had.

After the arrest, Kono had put on a brave face about Adam, brushed off Chin’s chiding, sorrowful expression, and moving discretely away from his compassionate touch on the shoulder.

 _I loved him,_ thought Kono. And it was ridiculous the stab in her heart, because she couldn’t have, could she? Not really. You couldn’t love someone if you didn’t know them any better than that. _I thought he was someone he wasn’t, and I loved that man._

But it was worse to love an imaginary man, than to love a real man and find out he wasn’t who you thought he was. Because now none of it was real, dust in the wind, blown away, pyroclastic flow hardening over another wounded area of her heart.

It didn’t help matters that she deserved it. She should’ve listened to the nagging doubts. Like… if you dated a man involved in organized crime, and he was wonderful, he was getting out of the business, and everything was going to be so perfect… and you didn’t stop to think about what happened when his good intentions failed, as everyone’s did sometimes, what it might mean. For Kono, it had always meant going back to the way you were growing up, or had grown up, the things about yourself you wanted to change but kept dealing with when the chips were down, when you weren’t strong enough to be somebody else.

It meant surfing all day or drinking too much and getting into trouble with friends: pushing the boundaries. And it meant dating men that were a little wild, a little dangerous, not quite people she wanted to introduce to her family.

_And that should’ve been the warning sign there. Because I didn’t want to let Chin know._

And when Adam slipped up, all he had to go back to was being Yakuza. Killing, torturing for revenge. Kono had thought she had a long time to ponder that, a great deal of time: she might have hours, or even a whole day with duct tape over her mouth, around her hands and ankles. Lying there on the floor, where she’d gone to meet her lover.

_I was a fool. I tried to call while he was there. I’m better at undercover than that. Should’ve told him I believed him, and waited to call till I left…_

Her heart stabbed with pain again, beneath the hardening lava rock. _I loved him. I wasn’t undercover._

Perhaps her own bad pattern was going after men who didn’t… who weren’t quite safe. Except instead of throwing yourself at a wave and conquering the world, you were actually just bashing your head on the rocks, trying to let your love redeem someone so flawed you saw yourself in them. You wanted so much to believe the best of them. You wanted them to be better, be whole.

She’d seen Adam that way, and he’d seen himself that way in her eyes: someone who could be better, who wanted to be. And maybe they’d loved each other for that feeling as much as anything physical between them. 

Except in the end she hadn’t meant enough to him, compared to getting revenge. And so she got to go surfing for hours on the beach, even though her old wound was beginning to ache and she knew she should stop. But surfing numbed the aches as they crusted over.

It had been hellish, back when she couldn’t surf at all, not even like a tourist.

The sun was headache-bright. She looked towards shore, sand and trees and people. There he was, holding a hand up to his eyes, shading his face. The familiar, dark outline of her broad-shouldered cousin. Relief settled in her chest, mixed with a wry feeling of wanting to laugh at his protectiveness, his inevitability.

Good old Chin, too staid and set in his ways to accept her shady boyfriends, her occasional dangerous undercover work, or even the fact that she pushed herself too hard sometimes, wanting to gain back what she’d lost with her surfing injury.

“You’ll never be pro again. Can’t you just enjoy it?” he’d asked once. Laid-back Chin, who would never totally understand.

She hadn’t spoken to him for days after he said that. Until he came and apologized, in that quiet, humble manner of his, so gentle with her, more so than she deserved. Really, she should have forgiven him sooner: because, she realized later, he did understand. He understood because he’d been a cop, and he’d lost that, and it had been lost to him for far too long until Steve found him a place in the 5-0.

He’d understood perfectly, but hadn’t known it. He’d felt the same way, he just didn’t bang his head against the wall. He let it all go inside, and he kept it there, instead of raging against impossibilities the way she did. 

And somehow, no matter what, he was always there to catch her.

Her mouth twisted into a broad, rather crooked grin, and she headed towards the beach. Pulling herself from the water, surfboard under her arm, Kono squinted at her cousin. 

“Hey cos. Looking after me?” The words didn’t come out quite as jauntily as she meant them to. 

Her legs felt heavy and loose from the water, her energy strung out without having taken with it her heavyheartedness. Her smile, her word felt forced, and so did her jaunty walk, put on for his benefit, even though she’d never fooled him once before.

“Hey.” Chin gave her a real smile, reached out, and put a hand on her arm. “Think you should stop now? We can go have a drink and talk.” He nodded up the beach, in that low-key way of his that seemed to ground everyone around him. 

Chin Ho Kelly: the man who takes care of everyone. Total strangers trusted him, could relax when he came on the scene and reassured them everything would be all right. Everyone knew it: you could just trust Chin. Which made it so extra incredibly strange that his own department hadn’t believed in him, had thought him a dirty cop.

Kono had always believed in Chin more than any evidence they’d compiled, faked, or twisted. Always.

She kept her smile on, but shook her head. “I don’t feel like drinking tonight.” She did. But one drink would lead to far too many, caused by that same reckless feeling that led to needing to surf. And drinking too much wasn’t healthy, would leave her with a headache and shame and most likely crying her eyes out on Chin’s shoulder. He didn’t need that and neither did she.

_He’s a married man now, and I’m a grown woman, not his troublesome little cousin nobody else has time for._

Back in those days, she’d desperately needed his calm understanding. She’s gotten herself into excitement, foolish friendships, dangerous stunts (which she usually got away with), a certain amount of conflict with her family, and the wonderful career of surfing. “Get a real job,” her mother had said. “Something you can support yourself with.” Nobody understood her fretful teenage urgency to grow up, do something, be taken seriously, to matter and mean something in life _now._ Nobody but Chin, her police officer cousin who somehow always found time to listen.

_He was there for my first heartbreak. No wonder he feels like he needs to be here for my latest._

But he would also have to tell her about it. Have to give her a very proper and well-meaning and perfectly deserved lecture about Using Better Judgment, and Reflecting On the Job—and a dozen other things she deserved to hear, even from a less modulated and reasonable tone than her cousin’s.

The only thing was, today she’d rather cut off a big toe than listen to any lecture, no matter how deserved.

So she shook her head and smiled, brushing wet hair back from her face, shifting her grip on her board.

“That’s okay. I think I’ll go home, have an easy night.”

“If you’re sure.” He gave her a searching look, but stepped back out of her way. “We’ll talk later, then.” He gave her a nod and a small smile. 

She could hardly believe it was that easy, but was glad for the reprieve. Maybe tomorrow or the next day she could handle it better. After all, Chin meant well, and she deserved more of a chewing out than he would give her. She just wasn’t ready yet. Let the lava crust over and harden further first. Let her own recriminations ease. _Just let me make it through one night._

She tried to think if she had any alcohol at home. She hoped not. Just take a hot shower and go to bed. She should sleep well after so much surfing. If tears came, they might not even last too long.

It was strange how your body could keep on functioning, even at your saddest moments. Finally at home, relieved to be there but still in the midst of second-guessing all her life choices regarding men, Kono’s stomach growled. She realized just how hungry she was, always was after surfing, and wished she’d gone to the shrimp truck for something quick and tasty. Not that she wanted to face even Kamekona very much right now.

Somehow when you were ashamed of yourself, or really disappointed about something, it always felt like everyone could see to your core, to the shame or disappointment or whatever else you wanted to hide. 

Kono was good at putting on a brave face and hiding it, but she’d never quite gotten over that childish fear that everyone could see. And not everyone could see with quite as much compassion as Chin. He might scold her (deservedly), but he’d never despise her. Never hate her, even for really, really stupid choices.

Kono stood in front of her fridge, and peered into it, head tilted, and sighed. A shower had taken off the salt, but it didn’t wash away her feelings anymore than the surfing had. Time alone would do that.

#

Chin sighed.

It hurt to watch Kono in pain. Physically, of course, she’d been starting to hurt from surfing too long; he could tell from the way she walked, careful to hide it, but not as carefree and light on her feet as usual. 

Physical was the least of it.

How deeply did the hurt go? Only time would tell. But her eyes. Her eyes had said it went deep.

He got on his bike, slid his helmet on, and headed into traffic. Kono. More his little sister than his cousin. She’d always believed in him. 

Quicksilver, compassionate Kono: of course she would be willing to believe in the son of a Yakuza, that he was trying to change, that he _could_ change.

The duct tape must have burned when Chin pulled it off. But that was a quick hurt, soon over. How long would the rest take?

Adam Nakamura. Dangerous, handsome, tempting, trying to change. The danger had probably drawn Kono as much as anything, but so had her compassion for anyone hurting or misunderstood.

Chin knew very well that he couldn’t protect Kono. He’d almost completely given up trying. Instead of being his little cousin, she’d grown up and competent, and the gap between their ages seemed so much less… most days. Then there were days like today, and all he could see was the fourteen-year-old girl all scrawny limbs and awkwardness, sobbing her heart out because Brad broke up with her.

As he’d put an arm around her and drawn her carefully into a hug, assuring her she was too good for Brad anyway, Chin had been conscious of a great desire to bash Brad’s head in—whoever he was. He’d never wanted to kill a fourteen-year-old before; knew he wouldn’t after a minute. But for that moment, he’d have done anything to protect Kono. Yet he could do nothing.

Heading to the beach, knowing where she’d be, Chin’s plan had been to have a little talk about Adam. He’d meant to say that maybe, if you had to hide your lover from both family and coworkers, that person might not be absolutely the best choice for you. He’d planned to touch on the importance of working with 5-0, and how risking it on someone like Adam hadn’t been her best decision ever.

Then he saw her surfing. 

Standing on the beach watching, Chin was reminded of the days of surfing competitions, when the family would come out to cheer and clap for her: single-minded, focused Kono, all drive and spirit, whipcord thin but strong, able to take on the tallest waves and every other competitor in the group.

So fierce and alive and glad.

Even the family members who hadn’t approved at first of her surfing, eventually came out to cheer her on, admitted to Chin that he’d been right, that it was a good choice for her: channeling the wildness, the love of life, giving her a physical outlet that didn’t involve pranks or running around wild with her friends. Giving her purpose and letting her have an outlet for all her feelings and energy.

Chin was glad they’d changed their minds, but at the same time, he felt like they’d missed the whole point. Like they saw Kono as a problem to be solved, something to be contained till she could outgrow all that energy and passion. Instead of what she was: exactly who she should be. 

Chin might have lots of issues with some of the things Kono had done—stupid choices that he’d tried to help her out of—but he’d never had any issue, even during her wildest days, with the essential, deep-down Kono. Her energy and spirit weren’t a curse, they were _her._

He thought even the rest of the family had realized that when she lost if, briefly, after the surfing accident. When the light went out of her eyes, and instead of seeming to dance or leap or run everywhere, so graceful, wild, and free, she’d walked like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

When he saw her surfing again today, throwing herself into it despite the pain he could read in her stance, Chin had known he couldn’t give her that speech. Kono, throwing herself at the world, challenging it and wanting to believe the best, believe in people and trust and love and live. Adam was another foolish choice (he still felt it), and he’d tried to bail her out again and always would. But he couldn’t scold her for it anymore than he could for wanting to surf. Her passions were her own, part of who she was. They might need tempered, but he thought experience (including this one) would do a better job of it than his words ever could.

And when she stepped onto the beach and tried to smile at him, right then she was the hurting fourteen-year-old again, and it was Brad all over again.

So Chin kept his mouth shut, let her leave, and now, he was riding in the heavy, stinking traffic, the sun hot on his shoulders. He hadn’t been able to fix it about Brad, just listen and give her the hug she needed. 

The thing the family hadn’t seemed to realize then was that even as tough and energetic as she could be, Kono still needed their love. When she pushed against boundaries, it wasn’t personal. When she and her mother fought (as they had a lot in those days), and held grudges afterwards, or her father slowly retreated from her questions and presence and bids for attention until she’d learned not to make any demands, they had missed out in some ways on seeing the vulnerable girl who sometimes just wanted to be loved and didn’t know how to ask. The girl who really did want to know their opinion, wanted help to make sense of the world, but still felt the need to challenge every view till she could prove or disprove it.

The girl who’d thrown herself into surfing and martial arts with so much passion it almost hurt to watch, who seemed to hope these things could fill the needs she had.

Chin knew she hadn’t told him everything. That he couldn’t always be there for her. He’d been older, busy with his own life, and though he always tried to make time for his cousin, always tried to be the cool ‘big brother’ who would listen and be there for her, he knew there were things she didn’t share, hurts she carried on her own. She couldn’t always be that fourteen-year-old girl who could break down and share her pain. 

Even then, she’d been embarrassed about crying, and apologized afterwards, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

_Because in our family we suck up our emotions. That’s just what we do._

Except he’d never wanted that for Kono. She just wasn’t built that way, and to force it on her would be like clipping a bird’s wings. People did that, of course, with pet parrots, and felt they were keeping the animals safer. They probably were. But all the same wild parrots needed to fly, to be free: and Kono was nobody’s pet.

Chin pulled up at the shrimp truck and took off his helmet, rested it between the handlebars. He could hear the sounds of passing traffic, people talking, and Kamekona selling shrimp. A warm, sweet breeze filled the air, and he inhaled deeply, enjoying it and the smell of cooking shrimp. He pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial one. 

When Malia answered, he told her he needed to spend some time with his cousin because she was going through some things right now, and needed family there. “I might be a few hours,” he added.

“I see. Is she okay? Do you need me there?”

Chin hesitated. “She’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need you.” 

Kono and Chin’s wife hadn’t gotten along very well for a while. Oh, they’d made their peace, because of course they intended to get along and not make him uncomfortable. They were both important in his life and knew it, and neither was selfish enough to put him in the middle by openly disliking the other. But all the same, Kono wouldn’t be happy if Malia witnessed her in such a deep, dark, vulnerable place. Kono would rather hold her head high and smile no matter how much it hurt; it was hard enough for her to let down her barriers around family.

Kono, who could empathize with people she’d just met, the one who could always find a gentle way to tell people they’d lost a family member to a violent crime. The one who comforted. That same Kono had trouble even acknowledging, much less displaying, her own grief, her own darker emotions.

Chin bought two orders of shrimp, packed them carefully into his saddlebags, and drove to Kono’s small apartment.

He knocked at the door.

“Yeah? Who is it?” called Kono in a very tired voice, sounding like she didn’t really care.

“It’s me, your cousin. Open up, I’ve got shrimp.”

He hefted the containers, as if to show her. His sunglasses were hooked into his shirt now, his bike parked carefully beside Kono’s little car, as if to keep it company. 

Kono didn’t come to the door right away—or else she did, and just stood there a moment, hesitating, trying to decide whether to let him in. But eventually, the door cracked open a few inches, and she peered out at him. Her dark brown eyes looked wary, weary, and very sad. 

“I’m not here to talk,” Chin promised. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Yeah. Well, you’re right, I am.” With a faint, crooked smile, she opened the door the rest of the way, holding it open for him. She wore board shorts and a white tank top, and her hair was wet. “You’d better come in.”

“Thanks.” He stepped over the threshold and walked to the kitchen table, put the food down and looked around. Everything was neat, clean. She hasn’t been neglecting her apartment, spending time with Adam. Or else she simply hadn’t been here to get anything dirty in the first place.

He reached for napkins, found forks, and joined her by the table. Kono had pried one of the containers open and was eating a piece of shrimp with her fingers. She gave him a half guilty, half gleeful smile that had none of her usual wattage. “I’m really hungry after I surf.” She licked her fingertips.

“I know.” He handed her a fork, and gave her a smile. He remembered how her mother used to tell her she was too thin—and then scold her for eating ravenously after surfing. Apparently she needed to eat more, but be ladylike about it, not let on she was hungry. Not let on so many things.

Now, Kono leaned hungrily over her food. She ate several bites before looking up, some of the tight look fading from her face. She brushed back her wet hair with her wrist. “Thanks, cuz,” she said with a sigh. “That tastes really good.”

Chin nodded, smiled, and ate more.

Apparently misinterpreting his silence, Kono sighed. “Look, I know, about Adam. I know, okay, Chin? I… should’ve been more careful.”

“Kono…” He held up a hand.

“Let me finish or I won’t get it out.” She put down her fork. “I… really cared about him, and it’s really hard. But I’m going to be smarter from now on. I’m glad you were there. I thought it would be hours, and I’d have to hear someone be tortured to death and be unable to do anything about it. It hurt, and it was awful, and I’ll be more careful from now on. So you don’t have to tell me. I know.”

Her eyes. Her eyes were deep, sorrowful wells—now full of memories and self-recrimination. Beating herself up for a poor choices.

And now Chin saw them on her arms: bruises. He’d beaten her up, too. Adam, handsome, dangerous, trying-to-change Adam, had defeated and restrained Kono, duct taped her, and left her there, bound and hurting.

Chin could never forgive that. He knew Kono might—knew her better than she knew herself in that way—but he never would. The bruises on her slim arm were in the mark of fingers, restraint. None of the other bruises were immediately apparent, but they were there. They had to be, for Kono to admit it hurt. 

Of course, the physical was the least of it. He’d hurt Kono’s heart, battered her caring nature, and Chin couldn’t forgive that either.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Chin assured her. “I’m just sorry it turned out that way.”

Kono looked across the table at him, her eyes showing surprise, almost disbelief. Then she smiled, rueful and sweet. “I don’t know how you keep surprising me, cuz.” She put her hand over top of his. “I deserve such a lecture, and you’re not saying a word.”

“I think you already said them all to yourself. Come on. Let’s finish eating—and then you look like you need to sleep for about twelve hours straight. Unless you need to see a doctor?” He raised his eyebrows.

She shook her head. “No, I’ve been in worse fights. It’s not that bad.” But her gaze lowered, no longer meeting his.

“All right. I’m gonna trust you. But don’t play tough. Take care of yourself, and don’t cover up for him. If you’re battered, that’s another thing we can put him away for.”

“Chin,” she remonstrated. “I’m not battered. And I don’t—I know, he has to be prosecuted for some of what he did. But I don’t want to put him away. I just… want to put all of this behind me.” She rested her elbows on the table, and leaned forward, sighing, pressing the heels of her hands against her forehead. “Wish I picked better. Why can’t I like someone like you, someone who’s trustworthy?”

He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You will, cuz. Besides, you know I’m not perfect.”

Kono looked up then, her smile bright and more genuine than he’d seen from her all day. “But you know you are.”

Chin felt his own smile, broad and slow and unstoppable. “Yeah, all right, I am!”

They both laughed, breaking the last of the awkwardness between them. 

They finished the shrimp, eating carefully, savoring the flavors. 

Kono fetched a partial quart of ice cream from her freezer, scraped off the freezer burn, and they divided it between them, the cool flavors cutting the spiciness of the shrimp, making a satisfying finish to the meal. Each felt little need to talk. 

Chin scraped his bowl clean, and rose. He put it in the sink, and then turned back to ask—he wasn’t certain what, just to be sure she was okay. She was standing now too, looking at him, her eyes holding so many things they never said, but were still there between them, bonding them close as only family could be, so many years and memories between them, trust that went bone-deep. She moved towards him, and he opened his arms to her, keeping his hug light around her, careful.

She always felt so skinny in his arms, smaller than her big personality and zest for life made her seem. His fragile, fierce, intense, tough, beautiful cousin, the one and only Kono. She’d loved Adam, he felt certain. Maybe he’d even loved her back. But he hadn’t loved her _enough._ When Kono finally found the right man, he had better love her more than anything in the world, to be worthy of her. He’d _better._

Kono drew back, smiling both sheepish and grateful and looking somehow relieved, calmer in the face, less drawn and more like herself. “Thanks, cuz.” She gave him a light knock with her knuckles on his arm, and he smiled in return. 

“You rest now,” said Chin, raising a finger instructively.

Kono flashed a teasing grin. “What are you, my father?”

“No, I’m your cousin. Rest. Adam, Brad—none of them have been good enough for you. But someone will be, someday. I know it.” He raised a hand in farewell, ducked his head in a half nod, half smile, and turned to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“Chin?”

He stopped in the doorway and turned. “Yeah?”

She was grinning at him, her eyes sparkling. “‘Brad?’ My first boyfriend? I haven’t thought about him in years.”

“Good,” replied Chin. And he meant it. “But I didn’t forget. Adam’s on that same list, and I hope you won’t ever give either of them a second chance.”

She didn’t respond directly; of course not. It was too close to the surface yet. But her smile didn’t wholly disappear, either. She walked with Chin to the door. “I haven’t seen Brad in years. Maybe I should look him up on Facebook. See what he’s doing these days,” she teased.

Chin shook his head, but was unable to keep back a grin. He raised a finger and pointed to her. “You be careful. And rest—I mean it.” 

He couldn’t think of a good comeback, but then, he didn’t need to. He’d made her smile.

He rode home, feeling lighter inside his chest than he had since guessing something was wrong. Kono would be okay. Once again, she would be okay. 

_Hang in there, cuz. You’re tough and you’re smart and getting smarter all the time._

#

Kono was still grinning a little as she climbed into pajama shorts and a loose, sleeping t-shirt. Who would have guessed Chin kept a list of all her old boyfriends? If that wasn’t just like him—to remain outwardly calm, but stew about things: to never forget about hurts to his family.

He could forgive his own injuries. He could always put others first. But he just didn’t forget if someone hurt people he cared about.

_Why can’t I find someone like him? Why do I like the bad boys?_

Maybe Adam had changed that. She still felt bruised physically and emotionally from everything that had happened. Maybe the next time she fell in love, it would be to someone more trustworthy.

Her smile disappeared and she sobered at the thought of Chin’s words: Don’t trust him again.

He’d obviously felt she needed that advice. Did she? Perhaps. Even now, she didn’t want to think the worst of Adam. She wanted to talk to him. Even after everything, she wanted to talk to him.

She wanted everything to just be okay, and like it used to, and to stop hurting.

_Maybe someday I’ll grow up._

The sound of birds and traffic outside her window blended, drawing her down to sleep. The pull of the sea seemed to echo on her legs, a slightly disorienting feeling of being sideways and upside down and upright all at once, shifting, swaying like the tide. The blue-green of deep, clean water and the bright sun flashed across her memory. 

Adam’s gun, raised, pointed at her. 

Seeing the world sideways, ear pressed to the floor, skin painfully tight beneath duct tape, stinging bruises the least of her pain. 

The outline of Chin on the beach, his broad shoulders, waiting for her, waiting to be cried on or ignored or whatever she needed. 

Steve back. Embracing Steve, who was finally home. 

Adam lowering his gun finally, and Kono shooting—her bullet finding its mark, saving Adam one last time, the only time and way she could now. He walked his own path now, walking away, walking away from her, a roll of duct tape in his hand, hanging at his side.

The look in Chin’s eyes, when he found her, and reached to pull the duct tape off.

And then the water and the clean, sea-smelling air, and birds outside her window, traffic sounding gentle as a fan, and Chin’s eyes, always there, seeing too much and loving her anyway. Always there, always there no matter what else went wrong.

Birds sounded, and Kono slept, on her side, damp hair around her neck cooling, hands half curled, held near each other as if remembering duct tape, and holding a gun, and so many loves now past.


End file.
